


A life full of promise

by fairchildss



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post S3, Romance, here's some more blissful happiness bc they deserve it, they got their happy ending!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 05:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11821941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairchildss/pseuds/fairchildss
Summary: The kiss was light and free and full of the promise that they had the rest of their lives to do this now. Anne felt it in her entire body, in her bones, in her very soul as Aramis lips met hers for the first time in so many years it had felt like forever.





	1. Promise

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write a fic for Aramis and Anne ever since I saw the Musketeers finale last year and they against all odds got their happy ending, and I finally did it!! Guys, it's been over a year but I still truly can't believe one of my most loved ships ended up together and I'm still kinda freaking out every time I think about it and I have a million headcanons about what happens to them after the finale, so here's my take on it. This probably won't be a lengthy fic with lots of chapters but rather small snippets/scenes with Aramis and Anne that I wished we'd gotten to see. The first scene follows immediately after the ending of s3. Hope you enjoy!

The kiss was light and free and full of the promise that they had the rest of their lives to do this now. Anne felt it in her entire body, in her bones, in her very soul as Aramis lips met hers for the first time in so many years it had felt like forever. 

They stood on the stairs of the fountain looking over the palace garden, not quite in view for anyone to see but not quite hidden enough for complete privacy. Anyone could see them if they walked this way, but in that moment Anne didn’t have a care in the world. Her hands travelled from Aramis chest to his hair, feeling his soft locks under her fingers as his hands cupped her face. 

She had missed this feeling with such fierce longing she could barely believe it was all happening now. She could remember that Aramis always kissed and held her with such passion, with every bit of feeling in it that it made her heart beat fast and gave her skin goosebumps, and this was no different. But it was better than she ever remembered it to be. It was better than she had imagined it to be all those days and nights she had dreamt of him, missed him, longed for him with every fiber in her body. She had imagined if she’d ever have the small chance of kissing Aramis again it would be filled with all the emotions of the last seven years combined, the sorrow mixed with the joy, the heartbreak mixed with the love. But this kiss was pure love, a love so strong Anne was overwhelmed with it. 

After several long minutes they broke apart, their foreheads touching, eyes still closed, holding each other. They didn’t need any words to speak what they were both thinking. They could finally have this, and it would all be worth it. They were not alone, they were together at last, and it was like the world stood still around them as they let it sink in, the promise that this new reality was theirs to keep. 

“Ana,” Aramis whispered, a Spanish lilt to his voice. The sound of him saying her name alone made her knees weak, and she could have wept at the feeling it brought within her. She hadn’t been called by her real name since she was a child, since before she ever came to France and became Queen. It was her Spanish name, and one she had never used since she moved away from the country of her birth. Aramis said it so softly, and once again she was reminded he was no stranger to her mother tongue. He had spoken Spanish to her once, sweet murmurings after their night together so many years ago. She had been surprised then that he knew the language, but she was no longer. He held yet another piece of her home in him, and she wanted to hear him say her name like that for the rest of her days.

“I know,” she whispered back, because she knew his every feeling in this moment, as he did hers. They didn’t need words. He stroked her cheek and she leaned into the touch.

“Walk with me,” she said finally, nudging her head towards the vast gardens beyond. They had the freedom to be seen together now, albeit not as Anne and Aramis, but as the Queen and her Minister. It was enough for now, more than she had ever dared to wish for, and it was a start. As long as she had Aramis at her side, she knew she would be happy and content, because it was something she never knew she could have. But it was hers now. 

Aramis smiled so stunningly, Anne couldn’t help but smile brightly back. He straightened his newly outfitted Minister clothing and offered her his arm. She took it, and off they walked together through the gardens on the most beautiful French summer day.


	2. Pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always loved the thought of them spending lazy evenings and mornings together after a little pleasure (hehe), so here's some of that pureness!

“I never knew you could feel… pleasure like that,” Anne said, a flush spreading over her pale cheeks. “Until I met you.”

She looked beautiful in the candle lit light of the room, her fair hair loose and splayed out on the pillow under her head, the smooth silk covers of the bed the only thing covering her body. She always looked beautiful, Aramis thought, but seeing her like this – free and happy and content – never ceased to amaze him. He had seen a glimpse of her like that the first time they had ever been together that night at the convent so long ago, and he wished now he could see her like that for all the days of his life. 

“I’m glad I can give you it,” Aramis said, taking one of her hands to his mouth. “You deserve to feel pleasure.” He meant it; nothing could compare to seeing the pleasure he could bring her, something she had never been given before. He half didn’t care about his own pleasure as long as she was happy, but there hadn’t ever been a time he didn’t feel pleasure with her. The very touch of her skin against his made his whole body crave for her. 

“I feel it.” She was looking up at him, the light swimming in her blue eyes, full of warmth and desire and love. He would never tire of seeing her like this, and he thanked his God for giving him the gift of this life which he didn’t deserve. For giving him her. 

Aramis bent down to trace a kiss against her jaw, moving to the corner of her mouth, and finally to the soft curve of her lips. He remembered all those nights he had spent at the monastery to repent for his sins, how he had laid in bed unable to sleep, haunted by the memory of her kisses, those feather soft lips against his. He had tried to forget, to bury his desires and the image if her in his head. But sometimes the memory of her, the memory of their son, was the only thing that got him through the days. The knowledge that they were both safe and alive made him keep his promise of staying far, far away from them and from Paris, and he would gladly sacrifice his life over and over to keep them that way. Even if staying away from them, trying to forget, trying to bury it all, was killing him on the inside.  
But now here he was, her face and her kisses no longer a haunting memory he tried to supress, but a reality and one he counted his blessings to wake up to every morning. 

He groaned as she tugged at his hair, and she laughed into the kiss. “You’re easy,” she murmured with a smile.

“You know my weak spots.” Aramis smiled back at her, and heaved himself off her, falling beside her on the sheets. 

“I’m learning,” she said, pulling closer to him and putting her head on his chest.

Aramis wrapped his arms around her, her long hair splaying on his stomach. “It’s easy. I have one weakness. You.”

She traced circles against his skin, and looked up at him again, her brow raised slightly. “I’m your weakness?”

He blew out a soft breath. “Yes.”

“You’re my strength,” she said, and Aramis was surprised for a moment.

“You’re strong on your own. The strongest woman I’ve ever known.”

“I try to be,” Anne said, continuing to trace circles on his skin. “But you make it easier for me. You and my son. Our son. You’re my strength and my heart. I draw from it.”

He looked at her with all the love and admiration he could muster. She was truly an amazing wonder of a woman.

“It’s a good balance then, the two of us,” he said, kissing her forehead.

“The best I could wish for.”

They lay in silence like that for a while, their bodies entwined and arms wrapped around each other, their soft breaths the only sound in the room. Moments like these were some of Aramis favourite’s, just they two of them together like this, on the verge of sleep in the arms of each other. It was the most content he ever felt during his days that where always so full of the politics of the court and the country. As Minister it was stressful and always a challenge, but he wouldn’t trade his position at the Queen’s side for anything, and nights like this, spent with her, were worth all of it. 

“Did anyone see you tonight?” Anne asked after a while, her voice a whisper, the edges slurred with sleep.

“I was careful,” Aramis said, stroking her hair. He was always careful, but he could never be sure if he was ever seen entering her chambers. He suspected the guards outside her rooms knew, but they kept everything to themselves. It was the nobles of the court that gossiped, not the guards. Anne herself had chosen her guards for her and her sons chambers, with some help from Aramis and d’Artagnan, who was now the official Captain of the Musketeers, to seed out the best and most discreet ones. Nevertheless, Aramis tried to be subtle as he walked through the palace at night to visit Anne in her rooms, as he was when he left them in the mornings. His own room was the closest one to the Queen’s wing, were Anne and the Dauphin slept, a request made by Anne when Aramis accepted the position as her Minister and most trusted advisor. It was a way for them to be close by each other, and it made it easier for Aramis to visit her whenever she pleased, which was most nights. “Our rooms” she’d come to call it. Still, they had to be careful.

“Soon you won’t have to be, I hope,” she said. “It’s been months.” 

It was true; it had been months since the King had died, since Treville; months since Anne had been made Regent, and the French court had finally settled and found a steady ground again. Someday soon perhaps, they might not have to be as careful anymore. But today was not that day, Aramis knew. 

“I hope so too,” Aramis whispered in her hair. “One day.”

“One day,” Anne echoed softly, as she finally fell asleep in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to every single one of my followers over at AnnamisDaily on tumblr who inspired me and freaked out with me and loved Aramis/Anne as much as I did through it all. This one's for you guys.


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